Confessions of an English 111 Student

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Ray Bradbury once said, “Half the fun of the travel is the aesthetic of lostness.” With my sister’s trusty Garmin GPS in hand (or perhaps I should say attached to the car window) and its 24 orbiting satellites directing me, I stepped into the car. With a map of the east coast resting on my lap, and my future roommate behind the wheel, I was ready to visit the college of my dreams!

June 11th 2009 started out a lovely morning, as Alex and I hugged and kissed his mother goodbye. Alex lived one block from the beach and the sea breeze tickeled my nose and filled my nostrils with a salt and fish smell. Piling into Alex’s red Forerunner, and finally rounding the corner, leaving home behind, we let out an enormous sigh of excitement.

We were two young men, future college freshmen, braving the vast interstate system of the United States of America—alone, with no parental supervision! I started the Garmin, chose the destination, 1235 University Blvd Steubenville, Ohio 43952, and picked the British female voice, Serena, to be the navigator on our first legitimate road trip. Alex and I were putting our trust in Serena to get us to Steubenville with out incident.

It seemed Serena was doing her job because we passed Richmond and Washington D.C. with no sign of traffic. That day was our lucky day to drive; it appeared we were receiving the blessings of the gods of the highway.

However, once we reached the Appalachian Mountains there wasn’t a convenient rest stop to be found anywhere. It seemed fate had made it my turn to drive right as Alex started doing a “pee-pee dance” like I’ve never seen done before. His bounces-and-sways were perfectly in sync with the ups-and-downs of the hills, and bends-and-curves of the windy mountain roads. It was as though the highway and terrain played a silent song for his “pee-pee dance.”

“Dude, I have to take a massive leak! I don’t know if I can hold it. God, why can’t there be a bush near by?” He said in a concentrating tone, trying to keep his urine inside his bladder.

“Man, just hold it. You can’t possibly have to go that bad,” I said as he shot me the most evil glare I had ever seen cross his face. Bursting into laughter, I began to make water sounds and sing the Detrol jingle, to provoke his need to urinate. “Whoosh, Flush, flush, drip, drip…I gotta go, gotta go, gotta –”

“SHUT UP DEVIN!” Alex shouted with a pang in his voice.

“Man it’s really that bad, huh? Here use this,” I said as I emptied my bottle of water. After a few more minutes of convincing Alex that the bottle was better than his pants, he hopped in the back seat, got on his knees and did his business.

Just when he was about to wrap things up, the highway symphony that was conducting his dance threw in a bump and sure enough, urine splashed onto his pants. Alex had an all too classic pee stain on the front of his jeans!

Finally, we reached Cumberland and pulled in at the first Sheetz we saw so that I too could use the restroom. Alex and I got out of the care and walked into the restroom. As I headed for the urinal, Alex locked the door, took off his pants, and went to the hand blow-dryer to dry his pants. It was the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen in my life. Alex stood there for about 10 minutes holding his jeans and pressing the button every 20 seconds to turn the blower back on. Finished at last, I unlocked the door and headed out with Alex trailing me. Unaware that a line had formed, two men and a lady gave us weird glances as we exited the single person restroom. With our bathroom break over, and a very awkward moment behind us, we jumped back into the car and got back on Route 40 North.

As it turns out, Serena had an alternate plan for our trip, Alternate Route 40 North that is! “Um, Devin… I think I’m going the wrong way that sign just said Alternate Route 40…is that a good sign?” Alex said in a questioning tone.

“Nope, I think that means we’re lost.” I said. Serena finally let us down. Nearly twenty “recalculating routes”, five cliché small towns later, and a road that dead ended at a fence five feet from the highway we need to be on, Serena got us back on Route 40 North.

Three more hours of eventless driving got us to Steubenville, Ohio. Thinking we reached our destination, Serena took us down a road that led to a one way street with the university on the other side of it. Turning around, Alex followed Serena’s directions as she recalculated our route a few more times. It turned out, Serena and all the other Garmin GPSs in the world hate Steubenville, Ohio. One quick phone call to a friend named Rachel (who just happened to be living in Steubenville for summer classes) got us to campus. We parked the car, got out, took a look around, and completed our first road trip with a high-five still felt ten minutes later.

Coming out of high school, I was ready to embark on my journey as a college student. Part of this journey required me to take English 111 my first semester at Tidewater Community College. Boy was this going to be a breeze I thought. I had been in honors English classes throughout my high school career, and new that a basic writing course at TCC would be super easy. To my pleasure, the course itself was not very challenging at all.

I found Mr. Gasparo’s class very un-motivating for me. I’m not saying he is a bad teacher or anything, I just didn’t feel motivated by his teaching methods. During the whole semester I felt as though it was a slack class and I only had to show up and do the work and get it turned in on time. In reality that’s how it was. But aren’t most college courses like that too? My mistake was making a presumption that I could procrastinate on the assignments and just do them the day before they were do (heck, that’s what I’m doing right now with this course reflection). My life as an English 111 student would have been so much easier and less stressful if I hadn’t done this.Mr. Gasparo really did teach me a few things I hadn’t know. We learned about rhetorical appeals in his class. I had no idea what ethos, logos, or pathos was before I stepped into his class. I sure am thankful for learning those concepts in his class. I learned how to make my writing effective at arguing and persuading during his class.

Mr. Gasparo himself is a very nice person. Not everyone gets his humor, but that’s ok. The class either laughed with him or at him, who can tell the difference? He’d walk in to class every day with wheeling his little teacher basket thing with stickers stuck to it (I have to say though, it made me smile when I saw a rebel alliance sticker on it!) and comment on the fact that we are always so quiet. The class itself was quiet in the beginning, but he made sure we worked in groups and got to know each other, which made peer reviewing so much less awkward. I’m thankful for that too, because I hate having people read my work.

Another thing I found I hate doing is presenting. Oh, and all of the computer stuff. Well, minus this blog. I have to admit I thought doing a blog for English class was kind of lame. To my surprise, I have come to the conclusion that it is not. I actually enjoy blogging. I even started my own personal blog! Everything we do in the class is connected to the internet somehow, especially the homework. Which brings me to another thing I disliked about the class— the homework. All the homework assignments were tons of readings I found boring and irrelevant to the class. I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Some of the other students and I would discuss or dislike for the homework. The part we hated the most was printing out every assignment we did. Boy was that a nightmare! Thank God for free printing in the library.

My advice for anyone taking this course is to do your homework. All the assignments pertain to class, even if you don’t think so. So much of our homework had to do with healthcare. What in the world does the current healthcare issue have to do with an English class?!?!?! Tons! We used the healthcare readings and other assignments to help with our writing. We watched the film Sicko in class and learned all about rhetorical appeals. It was an ingenious way to teach us! I have to give Mr. Gasparo props for that!

Advice for those people taking this course, do your work! Also, you might want to not have the same outlook on this class as I did. In the beginning it might seem like a piece of cake course…but as the semester goes by you learn it’s not! Don’t find out the hard way like I did.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Ray Bradbury once said, “Half the fun of the travel is the aesthetic of lostness.” With my sister’s trusty Garmin GPS in hand (or perhaps I should say attached to the car window), its 24 orbiting satellites directing us, a map of the east coast resting on my lap, and my future roommate behind the wheel, I thought a road trip to Ohio to visit my dream college would be like any other trip around the block—boy was I wrong!

June 11th 2009 started out a lovely morning, as Alex and I hugged and kissed his mother goodbye. The sea breeze filled my nose with a salt and fish smell and the early morning fog still hung in the air as I piled into Alex’s red Forerunner. We began our road trip by rounding the corner and letting out an enormous sigh of excitement. We were two young men, future college freshmen, braving the vast interstate system of the United States of America alone, with no parental supervision! I started the Garmin, chose the destination, 1235 University Blvd Steubenville, Ohio 43952, and picked the British female voice, Serena, to be the navigator on our first legitimate road trip. We were putting our trust in Serena to get us to Steubenville with out incident.

It was all smooth driving from his house. We passed Richmond with no traffic, and Washington D.C. was a breeze. That day was our lucky day to drive; it seemed we were receiving the blessings of the gods of the highway. However, once we reached the Appalachian Mountains there wasn’t a convenient rest stop inside. It seemed fate had made it my turn to drive as Alex started doing a “pee-pee dance” like I’ve never seen done in a car. His bounces-and-sways were perfectly in sync with the ups-and-downs of the hills, and bends-and-curves of the windy mountain roads. It was as though the highway and terrain played a silent music for his “pee-pee dance.”

“Dude, I have to take a massive leak! I don’t know if I can hold it. God, why can’t there be a bush near by?” He said in a concentrating tone, trying to keep his urine inside his bladder.

“Man, just hold it. You can’t possibly have to go that bad,” I said as he shot me the most evil glare I had ever seen cross his face. Bursting into laughter, I began to make water sounds and sing the Detrol jingle, to provoke his need to urinate. “Whoosh, Flush, flush, drip, drip…I gotta go, gotta go, gotta –”

“SHUT UP DEVIN!” Alex shouted with a pang in his voice.

“Man it’s really that bad, huh? Here use this,” I said as I emptied my bottle of water. After a few more minutes of convincing Alex that the bottle was better than his pants, he hopped in the back seat, got on his knees and did his business.

Just when he was about to wrap things up, the highway symphony that was conducting his dance threw in a bump and sure enough, urine covered his pants. Alex had an all too classic pee stain on his jeans!

Finally, we reached Cumberland and pulled in at the first Sheetz we saw so that I too could use the restroom too and fill the gas tank. Alex and I walked into the restroom. As I headed for the urinal, Alex locked the door, took off his pants, and went to the hand blow-dryer to dry his pants. It was the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen in my life. Alex stood there for about 10 minutes holding his jeans and pressing the button every 20 seconds to turn the blower back on. Finished at last, I unlocked the door and headed out with Alex trailing me. Unaware that a line had formed, two men and a lady gave us weird glances as we exited the single person restroom. With our bathroom break over, and a very awkward moment over, we jumped back in the car and got back on Route 40 North.

As it turns out, Serena had an alternate plan for our trip, Alternate Route 40 North that is! “Um, Devin… I think I’m going the wrong way that sign just said Alternate Route 40…is that a good sign?” Alex said in a questioning tone. “Nope, I think that means we’re lost.” I said. Serena finally let us down. Nearly twenty “recalculating routes”, five cliché small towns later, and a road that dead ended at a fence five feet from the highway we need to be on, Serena got us back on Route 40 North.

Three more hours of eventless driving got us to Steubenville, Ohio. Thinking we reached our destination, Serena took us down a road that led to a one way street with the university on the other side of it. Turning around, Alex followed Serena’s directions as she recalculated our route a few more times. It turned out, Serena and all the other Garmin GPSs in the world hate Steubenville, Ohio. One quick phone call to a friend named Rachel, who just happened to be living in Steubenville for summer classes, got us to campus. We parked the car, got out, took a look around, and completed our first road trip with a high-five still felt ten minutes later. A trip around the block was nothing like a trip to Steubenville, Ohio.